Page 30 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
He was a soldier, after all. When duty called, he would answer. Even if it meant a life of never knowing what might have been, if he had only dared to go against promises that had not even been made by him.
* * *
Inside Miss Longacre’s bedchamber, time moved with equal sluggishness. Victoria sat straight in the armchair by the fire, watching the flames dance. Fire no longer had the soporific effect that it had once had during her childhood, and she continued to feel alert though the hour had grown very late indeed.
In the bed across the room, Miss Longacre slept soundly. It pleased Victoria, that she could offer the kind of solace that allowed a young lady to sleep without fear. Though the same could not be said for Victoria’s own apprehension over what may come that night.
She glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. It read three o’clock in the morning.
Christian must be frozen to death outside.Quietly, she rose from the armchair and tiptoed over to the window, drawing back the drapes so she could look upon the garden below. Not a creature stirred, and if Christian hid there somewhere, she could not see him.
Nevertheless, she wanted to let him know that all was well. For now, at least. Delving back into her neckline and searching beneath the confines of the half-corset that she hugely resented having to wear, she took out a silver disc—larger than a coin, with no face or markings on either side. Holding it out at an angle, she waited until it caught the moon’s dim glow and tilted the coin back, giving one flash to let Christian know she was fine.
She was just putting the coin away when she heard the sharp whinny of a horse in the near-distance, and the slow, telltale trundle of carriage wheels upon the cobbles.
Her heart jolted.Is it happening? Has the time come?
She ducked away from the window and crouched beneath the sill. If anyone attempted to get into Miss Longacre’s chambers, she would be there to stop them in their tracks. Pressing her chest, she felt for the other object she had stowed away in her corset of wonders.
A knife. True, it didn’t hold the same impact as a pistol might have, but a knife had always proved to be Victoria’s most reliable companion in any dire situation. She didn’t have to worry about the flintlock working, or the shot expelling. A knife did as it was told, every time.
However, shehadcome somewhat more prepared than that.
Gathering up her skirts to reveal her stockinged leg, she checked to make sure the last hidden item in her possession was still where it ought to be. A pistol, strapped to her thigh. She would only be able to fire once, but she didn’t plan to actually use the weapon—it was merely intended to be a deterrent, to frighten the assailants into submission.
Yes, I think I was mistaken about us ladies wearing trousers instead of dresses. You can hide so much more within a dress than you could ever hope to hide in a pair of trousers.She smiled to herself and covered the pistol back up, leaning back against the wall so she could lie in wait for whomever may be on their way at that precise moment.
* * *
What does one flash mean?Christian stared up at the window in bemusement. It was not the same window where the candles still flickered, but he supposed that made sense. Victoria had lit the flames at the nearest window to Miss Longacre’s bedchamber. But… did that mean Victoria had gained entryintoMiss Longacre’s chambers?
This was not part of the plan.He shook his head and comforted himself that he’d not seen three flashes. One had to mean all was well, surely?
His head whipped around as the sound of carriage wheels rattled dully nearby, accompanied by the soft whinny of a horse. With his heart in his throat, he sank further back into the darkness of the rounded shrub and kept his gaze upon the farthest end of the garden. At Helena’s home, they had entered from the alley behind the house, using the gate to creep in. He feared they intended to do the same this night.
But that means it cannot be Sir John and Lord Mobberley…As far as he knew, they were still inside the house. Unless they had departed whilst he and Victoria had been setting up their positions. It perplexed him, for he had been so sure they had been on the right path with those two wastrels.
He held his breath as he listened to the still night air. A moment later, he heard the rusty scrape of a bolt being pulled back, deep within the gloom at the end of the garden. His nerves jangled wildly as that sound was followed by the creak of a gate opening, pushed slowly on its weathered hinges.
This is it. This is the moment we capture the kidnappers. Helena, I will see you safely returned to your mother and father. And… no, I will not think on that now.He could not torment himself any longer with his duty and the promises he had made. Even if he had to uphold them, he didn’t want to think about them now, with so much at stake.
A shadow slithered through the blackness, whistling quietly.
You dare to whistle?It sickened Christian, to hear such a frivolous tune, knowing what this wretch intended.
Biding his time, Christian forced himself to wait until the mysterious figure strode past his hiding place and headed up to the house. As Victoria had mentioned before, they couldn’t make any sort of arrest if they only had suspicions and circumstantial evidence to go on. This villain needed to actually enter the house, and attempt to steal Miss Longacre, before they could move to apprehend him.
However, the figure stopped upon the back steps of the house and bent low, depositing something at the door. Christian saw the fellow glance back over his shoulder, as though he suspected he may be being watched. It prompted Christian to sink lower, in case he was spotted.
What are you doing? What game are you playing? Are you leaving a warning?Christian panicked. If he allowed this fellow to leave, then they would miss their opportunity entirely. He looked up at the window where he had seen the silvery flash, and wished Victoria were beside him now. She would know what to do. A soldier had the mindset of acting first, and asking questions later, but he didn’t think that was what an investigator ought to do.
The shadowy man turned and made his way back down the steps, strolling across the dew-soaked lawn in the direction he’d just come. Christian waited until he heard the gate creak before he darted out of his hideaway and sprinted for the back door, praying he could discover what had been left and manage to stop the villain from leaving in his carriage, if he could run fast enough.
However, he skidded to a confused halt as he reached the back step. A wooden box sat there, with two large metal urns of milk inside. It stunned him so much that he wanted to laugh, his hand clamping across his mouth to stop any such sound from escaping.
Whomever that man had been, he had been no villain. It was only the milkman, delivering his rounds.
Chapter 14
